A week had passed since Seon-Mi was abducted and thrust into this nightmarish room to be tortured. Time became an elusive concept; the distinction between day and night dissolved into a blurry haze.
All of her fingers had been mercilessly removed and only two of her toes remained. Her legs and arms bore the scars of multiple stab wounds. The once-black outfit she wore was now a grim tapestry of blood stains. Her head hung low, covered by the tattered mess of hair that veiled her face.
Seon-mi was completely depleted of strength, she found herself unable to speak, let alone muster the strength to lift her head. This room, initially a chamber of horror, had paradoxically become her sanctuary. Drifting in and out of consciousness, Seon-Mi grappled with the ceaseless struggle to retain her sanity amidst the excruciating agony that bound her.
The door creaked open, and three men stepped into the room. Daichi Takenaka, the head of the Takenaka clan, led the trio. Mr. Yamashita followed, and the third man, Mr. Takenaka's right-hand, accompanied them. Both Mr. Yamashita and the third man were clad in black suits.
The smell in the room forced them men to visibly strain their faces, Mr Takenaka brought a handkerchief out of his kimono and held it to his nose.
"So, this is the girl?" Mr. Takenaka inquired.
"Yes, sir," replied Mr. Yamashita.
He approached her and sat opposite her on the chair that was brought in with them.
"I commend you girl. To have held out for a week without so much as a word from you. I'm honestly impressed. Grown men have lasted significantly less than you have in this very room. I was told after you lost your first finger that not even so much as a whisper left your lips. If I didn't have to kill you, I'd recruit you. We need more hardened people like you in the Takenaka clan."
Seon-Mi remained unresponsive, sitting lifelessly with her head hung.
"Is she even still alive?" Mr. Takenaka inquired.
"Yes, sir. Hangman said he gave her a concoction that will keep her alive for the next day or so, but after that, she's as good as gone," Mr. Yamashita explained.
Mr. Takenaka rose from his seat.
"If it wasn't for your stubbornness, you might have actually made it out of here alive."
He glanced at Mr. Yamashita, nodded, and left with his right-hand man. Now, only Seon-Mi and Mr. Yamashita remained. He approached her, lifting her chin with his finger. She was conscious, taking in every word that had been said to her.
"So, you are awake. I bet you think you've done something good here by keeping your mouth shut. Stupid girl, you'll die a fool just like your father."
From his blazer pocket, Mr. Yamashita produced a knife, clicking a button that ejected the blade. He pulled Seon-mi's head back and witnessed a look on her face that carried terror—a look of pure hatred.
Taken aback, he remarked, "Woah, that's a scary face you got there Seon-Mi. Well... any last words?"
With conviction, she met his gaze and declared, "When I die, i'm coming for you first," the words escaping her barely audible but resolute and decisive.
"Pfft, yeah right. Tell your family I said hi will you?" Mr. Yamashita's words dripped with disdain.
With alarming precision, he sliced Seon-Mi's neck open, unleashing a fountain of blood that gushed out like a water hose, painting the room in gruesome hues of red.
"Grk... urgh!" Seon-Mi convulsively choked on her own blood, the sickening sounds persisting for about a minute before the room succumbed to an eerie silence.
"Good riddance," Mr. Yamashita coldly remarked, clicking the knife back into its mechanism before exiting the room.
#
"What is this?"
Seon-mi drifted in an empty space, she couldn't see her hands or feet nor could she feel them, it was as if she had no physical body to begin with.
"Where am I? Oh, that's right, I died. Shouldn't there be some sort of welcoming committee? What the heck is this place?"
There was no up or down or left and right. All that was present was a message box floating in the middle of this nothingness. It read:
CONGRATULATIONS!
YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN AS A CORRECTOR
YOU CAN ONLY SELECT ONE OPTION
PLEASE CHOOSE YOUR CLASS:
- SPY
- ATHLETE
- SOLDIER
- BOXER
- DETECTIVE
- CHEF
- INVENTOR
- ANIMAL TAMER
- HITMAN*
With absolutely nothing & nobody in sight, Seon-mi decided to adhere to the message box.
"what are these options? I know nothing about any of them. Wait this one has a star next to it, I think I'll go for this"
Although she had no physical body, Seon-Mi discovered that interacting with the message box merely required her thoughts. So she selected 'Hitman' and another message box appeared.
YOU HAVE SELECTED 'HITMAN'
THIS IS A *SPECIAL* CLASS WITH NO LEVEL CAP
IN EXCHANGE FOR FULL ACCESS YOU MUST SACRIFICE SOMETHING OF EQUAL VALUE
"A bargain huh? Fine, take whatever you want"
As if the system knew what she meant it proceeded with the next message box
WOULD YOU LIKE TO RESTART AT THE LAST CHECKPOINT?
PLEASE SELECT ONE OPTION
NO - YES
"Checkpoint? It almost sounds like a game. What will happen if I press no? Hmm... let's go with yes, I guess,"
Another message box appeared.
ERROR!
YOU CURRENTLY HAVE NO SAVED DATA
RETURNING YOU TO YOUR LAST KNOWN LOCATION
PROCEED?
NO - YES
She selected 'yes' and gradually began to feel her existence in that empty void begin to fade.